PIGSTOCK: PART ONE
How does a woman, who has carved out a persona for herself as a diehard New Yorker who gets hives west of the Hudson, survive eleven days in the land of sun and heat and Californian wine and people who actually say hello to you--strangers (!) on the street?
It's really not so hard.
Eat at Coco 500 in San Francisco. Eat at Azizza in San Francisco. Drink plenty of French wine at Terroir Wine Bar (you got, it San Fran). Drink Italian mineral water. Go to Lou On Vine in Los Angeles. Sprinkle in some Palate Food & Wine. Fall in love. Score some Hook cheddar (from Wisconsin). Drive through the desert without air conditioning (builds character). Find some winemakers who eschew new wood even on their syrah and pinot. Eat a peach. Why not? Someone has to do it. Go to Pigstock. People the pig table with plenty of ex-pats.
Pigstock, the event, was held last shabbos. I was delighted to get the invitation from a friend with whom I had recently reconnected-- a Vermont ex-pat living in Carneros. We have known each other peripherally for 15 years or so, and until just a few weeks ago had no idea we had so many life experiences in common.
She, also she a dancer, ex-poet, attended Stony Brook back in the Jimmy Carter era. Even more interesting was that we both regretted not accepting up our (then) poetry professor's invitation to cavort underneath the sheets or in the woods or where ever our hearts would take us. "Oh, my! You too?" (So much for feeling special. Did he really try everyone? Probably.)
Still, What were we thinking by saying no?
Back to Pigstock.
The event, an annual one for her was held on an idyllic spot, up off Moon Mountain road in Sonoma. The road was twisty and Manzanita lined and snake crawling and yes, beautiful. If Hanzel and Gretl got lost in Sonoma, it would have been here. When we arrived, the pig --foraged by the great forager Angelo--was off of its spit (was wondering why it wasn't buried in the ground, but I'm pig-impaired).
But back to the table of ex-pats.
A Pig reveler with Pigstock propaganda
Pig was served.
And the wines came around.
PIGSTOCK:PART TWO
The sun was a tourmaline. So clear it could have been eight in the morning instead of near to five in the afternoon. We were late and from the many happily toasted faces, everyone else had started popping corks before we arrived. While the pig was being dissected, Brian, the head Dottore of Dalla Terra who I met for the first time, approached us with a bottle of 1983 Ockfener Bockstein Auslese. My friend got a taste. He did not share. But still, it was a sign for good things to come.
After debating which table, I looked approvingly at the Sablet, a Rhone Village I'm partial to, in the middle of one and sat accordingly. After a sip and soon rooted about to see what else was standing up. After a few seconds I saw the beast. There on a table not for from the pig was a 1994 Clape Cornas. I felt like Golum looking at the ring. Could I just pluck it from the table? No. How could I do that? Really, how greedy could I possibly be? Never the less, I rushed back to my table, grabbed a glass, ran back to their table and summoning up a genuine friendly kind of smile asked if I could possible steal a taste? I tried to be, you know, nonchalant, as if it didn't matter more than mere intellectual curiosity.
"Sure," one guy at the table said, "it's not as if there's not enough bottles here,” he said motioning at the other selections on the table. None of which interested me.
The man had no idea. He had not a clue that the Clape not just any bottle of wine, but the blood of Christ.
It was then I realized I could have said, "Let me take relieve you of this tired old thing, and let me give you instead a bottle of the Coppola?
But I was too embarrassed at how much I wanted it and so I merely poured a hefty pour, enough to share, and went back to the table.
Taste? Dubious storage. Seemed a little tired. But I was so happy for the silty, sweaty experience of the syrah. It had been too long since Clape met my tongue.
I was happy enough, between that and the Sablet, I could make do and probably drink far too much. Then this man at the table, John, a bearded New York City expat who lives not far from the San Francisco airport. held out a 1997 Michel Faraud's Domaine Cayron Gigondas and dramatically posited, "And now, to taste death.
John and his wife Nickie worship at the alter of ancient wines. We were in for a good ride.
PIGSTOCK: PART THREE
The taste of death and its prophet
John's death comment, did it come from some self-depracating place, not knowing that I too, and my friend were like-minded necrophiliacs?
Or was it the pig-eating talmudist within who loved to toy? Nickie, pronounced that she couldn't drink young white wines (an apt comment for an anthropologist) at all and she wore it as proudly as she did her New York-ex-patism. We couldn't have had a better table.
John went to check the wines he had exhumed for the Pig. He returned with 1996 Mount Olivet. More death! Someone who wore a Mac baseball cap came by to see what our table was drinking. He toted a Barossa Shiraz that he loved and just didn't see that its profile didn't match the wines on the table. He must have thought we were way more open minded than we actually were.
The 1996 Mount Olivet was (no notes, I was off duty) but --it was Chateauneuf at eleven years, the perfect age, my glass kept on being filled as it was being drained. Mr. Mac spilled his Barossa for the occasion. He poured some of the Olivet into his glass and held the brick colored wine up to the tourmaline light and said, "Look at that oxidation, dude!"
It's a kicker that made us laugh--hard-- until I was delivered to the red eye the following evening.
+
END OF PIGSTOCK
+

PIGSTOCK: PART ONE
How does a woman, who has carved out a persona for herself as a diehard New Yorker who gets hives west of the Hudson, survive eleven days in the land of sun and heat and Californian wine and people who actually say hello to you--strangers (!) on the street?
It's really not so hard.
Eat at Coco 500 in San Francisco. Eat at Azizza in San Francisco. Drink plenty of French wine at Terroir Wine Bar (you got, it San Fran). Drink Italian mineral water. Go to Lou On Vine in Los Angeles. Sprinkle in some Palate Food & Wine. Fall in love. Score some Hook cheddar (from Wisconsin). Drive through the desert without air conditioning (builds character). Find some winemakers who eschew new wood even on their syrah and pinot. Eat a peach. Why not? Someone has to do it. Go to Pigstock. People the pig table with plenty of ex-pats.
Pigstock, the event, was held last shabbos. I was delighted to get the invitation from a friend with whom I had recently reconnected-- a Vermont ex-pat living in Carneros. We have known each other peripherally for 15 years or so, and until just a few weeks ago had no idea we had so many life experiences in common.
She, also she a dancer, ex-poet, attended Stony Brook back in the Jimmy Carter era. Even more interesting was that we both regretted not accepting up our (then) poetry professor's invitation to cavort underneath the sheets or in the woods or where ever our hearts would take us. "Oh, my! You too?" (So much for feeling special. Did he really try everyone? Probably.)
Still, What were we thinking by saying no?
Back to Pigstock.
The event, an annual one for her was held on an idyllic spot, up off Moon Mountain road in Sonoma. The road was twisty and Manzanita lined and snake crawling and yes, beautiful. If Hanzel and Gretl got lost in Sonoma, it would have been here. When we arrived, the pig --foraged by the great forager Angelo--was off of its spit (was wondering why it wasn't buried in the ground, but I'm pig-impaired).
But back to the table of ex-pats.
A Pig reveler with Pigstock propaganda
Pig was served.
And the wines came around.
PIGSTOCK:PART TWO
The sun was a tourmaline. So clear it could have been eight in the morning instead of near to five in the afternoon. We were late and from the many happily toasted faces, everyone else had started popping corks before we arrived. While the pig was being dissected, Brian, the head Dottore of Dalla Terra who I met for the first time, approached us with a bottle of 1983 Ockfener Bockstein Auslese. My friend got a taste. He did not share. But still, it was a sign for good things to come.
After debating which table, I looked approvingly at the Sablet, a Rhone Village I'm partial to, in the middle of one and sat accordingly. After a sip and soon rooted about to see what else was standing up. After a few seconds I saw the beast. There on a table not for from the pig was a 1994 Clape Cornas. I felt like Golum looking at the ring. Could I just pluck it from the table? No. How could I do that? Really, how greedy could I possibly be? Never the less, I rushed back to my table, grabbed a glass, ran back to their table and summoning up a genuine friendly kind of smile asked if I could possible steal a taste? I tried to be, you know, nonchalant, as if it didn't matter more than mere intellectual curiosity.
"Sure," one guy at the table said, "it's not as if there's not enough bottles here,” he said motioning at the other selections on the table. None of which interested me.
The man had no idea. He had not a clue that the Clape not just any bottle of wine, but the blood of Christ.
It was then I realized I could have said, "Let me take relieve you of this tired old thing, and let me give you instead a bottle of the Coppola?
But I was too embarrassed at how much I wanted it and so I merely poured a hefty pour, enough to share, and went back to the table.
Taste? Dubious storage. Seemed a little tired. But I was so happy for the silty, sweaty experience of the syrah. It had been too long since Clape met my tongue.
I was happy enough, between that and the Sablet, I could make do and probably drink far too much. Then this man at the table, John, a bearded New York City expat who lives not far from the San Francisco airport. held out a 1997 Michel Faraud's Domaine Cayron Gigondas and dramatically posited, "And now, to taste death.
John and his wife Nickie worship at the alter of ancient wines. We were in for a good ride.
PIGSTOCK: PART THREE
The taste of death and its prophet
John's death comment, did it come from some self-depracating place, not knowing that I too, and my friend were like-minded necrophiliacs?
Or was it the pig-eating talmudist within who loved to toy? Nickie, pronounced that she couldn't drink young white wines (an apt comment for an anthropologist) at all and she wore it as proudly as she did her New York-ex-patism. We couldn't have had a better table.
John went to check the wines he had exhumed for the Pig. He returned with 1996 Mount Olivet. More death! Someone who wore a Mac baseball cap came by to see what our table was drinking. He toted a Barossa Shiraz that he loved and just didn't see that its profile didn't match the wines on the table. He must have thought we were way more open minded than we actually were.
The 1996 Mount Olivet was (no notes, I was off duty) but --it was Chateauneuf at eleven years, the perfect age, my glass kept on being filled as it was being drained. Mr. Mac spilled his Barossa for the occasion. He poured some of the Olivet into his glass and held the brick colored wine up to the tourmaline light and said, "Look at that oxidation, dude!"
It's a kicker that made us laugh--hard-- until I was delivered to the red eye the following evening.
+
END OF PIGSTOCK
+

07/25/2008

The galley of the 7th edition has been providing me with sparky pre-bed reading. The acknowledgements are heartwarming. Lovely writing. Great sentiment. He loves his wife.
Then he rolls down the top and presses the four to the floor. Yes, he pisses on terroir (coming) and has the screwiest notion of unspeakable practices (coming). He takes his critical role to the role of other writers and even in his recommended reading, included some not-so subtle bashing of the Burghound, Allen Meadows.
The critic gives kudos to Meadows' "unprecedented" coverage. Yet he also says, "He does seem to have swallowed the entire Burgundy philosophy hook, line and sinker, meaning that for him a grand cru will always produce better wines than a premier cru and it is doubtful he has ever met a Burgundy he didn't like. Burgundy needs a spokesperson, though."
He pats Meadows on the back for extending his coverage into domestic Pinot. ï¿½ He sees to be realizing that there is only a limited number of subscribers at this price point for these rare and notoriously unreliable wines, so he is branching out into domestic Pinot Noirs. A good move in my opinion.ï¿½
I actually have it on tape that Parker clues into the notion of grand cru, undeniably better wines. He also has been known to love some notoriously expensive Burgundies like DRC and Ponsot.
It almost makes me wonder if the critic has lost a screw somewhere.
His message to his reader is: Burgundy sucks. Buy overpriced Bordeaux and Cali-Cab. Don't worry. Be happy. But he can't possibly mean that because
now that, P***** has David Schildknecht to cover Burgundy (and the Loire etal.), the Parker Burgundy world is different. The difference is its new Burgundy credibility.
Meadows has his first domestic critical rival in Schildknecht. To give you an idea of how different Mr. S. is from the past Burgundy regime, he sprinkled praise on the wines of Philippe Pacalet, a winemaker I have been covering for the past four years. He gives the highest scores given Pacaletï¿½s grand cru. Mr. P. couldnï¿½t possibly mean to infer that David also fell for the drill, hook line andï¿½.does he? But more on that when I sit down and give the book a proper a read.
*** FLASH:
Thanks to those Google Alerts, I realize that Stephen Brook, who was blogging for Decanter stated that I had reported that P***** had questioned Meadow's impartiality.
It is so difficult to insure words are ironclad. I don't like it when mine are not.
I am stunned that is his takeaway. Maybe it's a language disconnect.
What I did infer was that in the new guide, P***** suggested that Meadows was gullible and taken in by marketing and a little starstruck as well. It is an assumption that while I find pretty horrifying, is not the same as questioning impartiality. For the record, I believe Meadows to be a sharp cookie who is not glossie eyed but does his research quite well.

The galley of the 7th edition has been providing me with sparky pre-bed reading. The acknowledgements are heartwarming. Lovely writing. Great sentiment. He loves his wife.
Then he rolls down the top and presses the four to the floor. Yes, he pisses on terroir (coming) and has the screwiest notion of unspeakable practices (coming). He takes his critical role to the role of other writers and even in his recommended reading, included some not-so subtle bashing of the Burghound, Allen Meadows.
The critic gives kudos to Meadows' "unprecedented" coverage. Yet he also says, "He does seem to have swallowed the entire Burgundy philosophy hook, line and sinker, meaning that for him a grand cru will always produce better wines than a premier cru and it is doubtful he has ever met a Burgundy he didn't like. Burgundy needs a spokesperson, though."
He pats Meadows on the back for extending his coverage into domestic Pinot. ï¿½ He sees to be realizing that there is only a limited number of subscribers at this price point for these rare and notoriously unreliable wines, so he is branching out into domestic Pinot Noirs. A good move in my opinion.ï¿½
I actually have it on tape that Parker clues into the notion of grand cru, undeniably better wines. He also has been known to love some notoriously expensive Burgundies like DRC and Ponsot.
It almost makes me wonder if the critic has lost a screw somewhere.
His message to his reader is: Burgundy sucks. Buy overpriced Bordeaux and Cali-Cab. Don't worry. Be happy. But he can't possibly mean that because
now that, P***** has David Schildknecht to cover Burgundy (and the Loire etal.), the Parker Burgundy world is different. The difference is its new Burgundy credibility.
Meadows has his first domestic critical rival in Schildknecht. To give you an idea of how different Mr. S. is from the past Burgundy regime, he sprinkled praise on the wines of Philippe Pacalet, a winemaker I have been covering for the past four years. He gives the highest scores given Pacaletï¿½s grand cru. Mr. P. couldnï¿½t possibly mean to infer that David also fell for the drill, hook line andï¿½.does he? But more on that when I sit down and give the book a proper a read.
*** FLASH:
Thanks to those Google Alerts, I realize that Stephen Brook, who was blogging for Decanter stated that I had reported that P***** had questioned Meadow's impartiality.
It is so difficult to insure words are ironclad. I don't like it when mine are not.
I am stunned that is his takeaway. Maybe it's a language disconnect.
What I did infer was that in the new guide, P***** suggested that Meadows was gullible and taken in by marketing and a little starstruck as well. It is an assumption that while I find pretty horrifying, is not the same as questioning impartiality. For the record, I believe Meadows to be a sharp cookie who is not glossie eyed but does his research quite well.

07/23/2008

I've been getting emails from people, winemakers and 'brands' who want my endorsement or at least approval.
They read my writing, they read what people say about me (don't laugh!). You would think after all of their careful research, they know what I'm about and what kind of wine I appreciate.
Not that the police should come and haul them in, but this is typical of a New World disconnect. Hey you like terroir, we like terroir, let's get together!
As Robert P***** brought up in his soon to be released NEW buying guide: "Lamentably, terroir has become such a politically correct buzzword....." (more on this later).
Lamentable. Yes. So, why should I be dismayed and then amused when I get this request from a winemaker to meet me? Because it is hard to grasp that when I see blue someone else sees orange. This is the email I got to try to convince me to take a meeting with this Australian winemaker. "His wines are a true representation of the soil they are grown in and his aim is to deliver a ‘sense of place’ and detail in all his wines. I understand that these are all concepts that you are passionate about."
I went to the web site to see if I could find any clue. First off I was pleased to see that they pretty much tell most of the picture. I appreciate the candid nakedness. Here is the cut and paste from the wineries website. Yes. There is sincerity here.
Fruit is harvested when the balance between fruit flavour, sugar and acidity is at optimum levels. Good quality fruit is essential to produce high quality wine.
The winemakers select premium parcels of fruit on based on a flavour profile. Flavour is important to the winemaker wanting to make a particular style of wine. This is relevant whether making wine in cool or warm climate regions.
Crushing
Once the fruit is picked and delivered to the winery it is then crushed into fermenters. During crushing the fruit is de-stemmed (the fruit is removed from the stem and any material other than grape is also removed). The fruit and juice crushed into the fermenters is from then on referred to as 'must'.
Traditional hand picking is still used for special parcels of fruit grown on old vines or for botrytis affected grapes but most fruit in Australia is now machine harvested. This reduces labour costs and allows the fruit to be harvested in the cool of the night.
Making White Wine
The must is drained and pressed then the two fractions of juice produced, 'free run' and 'pressings' are kept separate until post fermentation blending. 'Free run' is the juice that drains freely from the press, whereas the 'pressings' is the juice obtained by mechanically squeezing the must. Both fractions of juice are clarified and then yeast is added.
The temperature of the ferments is held between 13-17°C for 10-18days until the yeast has converted the sugar to alcohol.
Once fermentation is completed, the wine is racked (the clear portion on top is removed) and Bentonite is added for protein stabilisation.
Some white wines such as Chardonnay may be fermented and matured for a period in French or American Oak Barriques(small oak barrels). Most white wines though, for example unwooded styles such as Sauvignon Blanc and Riesling are stored in tank until they are ready for bottling. These styles are usually bottled soon after vintage, once fermentation, stabilisation, clarification and blending has occurred.
Making Red Wine
After crushing and de-stemming, yeast is added. To obtain colour and flavour,the juice from the must is taken from under the cap of the skins and used to irrigate the skins several times a day. The red must is fermented at temperatures between 22-30°C over a 5-7 day period.Premium parcels may be transferred into French or American oak barrels to complete fermentation. Once the sugar has converted to alcohol, and the colour and flavour have been extracted from the skins, the must is then pressed.
After pressing, the wine is clarified and inoculated with Leuconostoc oenos (malo-lactic bacteria) for secondary or malo-lactic fermentation. Malo-lactic fermentation is the conversion of malic acidinto lactic acid.
Once the malo-lactic fermentation is completed the wine is clarified and stabilised prior to blending. For premium parcels oak maturation in American or French oak barriques (225L) for a period of 9-12 months occurs.
Oak Maturation
Oak barrels are used for premium wine maturation. The type of oak used whether French, American or other depends on the winemaker's individual preference or the style of wine being made. Different levels of "toasting" are used in making a barrel, which imparts flavour from the oak into the wine. The barrels are filled and sealed with a silicon bung.
Some barrels are stored with the silicon bung upright and topped every 2-4 weeks. Some are rolled where the silicon bung is in the 2o'clock position. The barrels are stored where the temperature is constant. This keeps the wine in better condition and reduces the rate of expansion and contraction due to temperature fluctuations.
Clarification and Stabilisation
Wines are clarified to 'cellar bright' prior to bottling or long term storage. The means of clarification used in the winery are Centrifugation, Earth and Pad Filtration.
White wine is both protein and tartrate stabilised, red wine is just tartrate stabilised. Adding Bentonite to white wine ensures that the wine will not have an undesirable haze of deposit once bottled. The haze or deposit is associated with the de-naturisation of proteins,which occurs more rapidly at higher temperatures.
Tartrate stabilisation removes potassium bi-tartrate crystals from the wine, this is achieved by chilling the wine to below 0°C. Although not harmful, the presence of crystals in a white and red wine can be unacceptable to the consumer.
Blending
Each wine is blended according to the desired style and the label requirement of a particular blend. Blending occurs when all the wine has completed primary and secondary fermentation and has been protein and tartrate stabilised. Blending is regarded as the intricate part of winemaking. Commercial winemakers focus on maintaining the consistency of style from vintage to vintage.
Bottling
The wine is packaged after sterile filtration. Sulphur Dioxide is added and in some wines Ascorbic Acid is also added as a preservative. The food additive codes on the labels are Sulphur Dioxide (220) and Ascorbic Acid (300).
As my friend, Alan F. pointed out, "People like that should pay you NOT to write about them. "

I've been getting emails from people, winemakers and 'brands' who want my endorsement or at least approval.
They read my writing, they read what people say about me (don't laugh!). You would think after all of their careful research, they know what I'm about and what kind of wine I appreciate.
Not that the police should come and haul them in, but this is typical of a New World disconnect. Hey you like terroir, we like terroir, let's get together!
As Robert P***** brought up in his soon to be released NEW buying guide: "Lamentably, terroir has become such a politically correct buzzword....." (more on this later).
Lamentable. Yes. So, why should I be dismayed and then amused when I get this request from a winemaker to meet me? Because it is hard to grasp that when I see blue someone else sees orange. This is the email I got to try to convince me to take a meeting with this Australian winemaker. "His wines are a true representation of the soil they are grown in and his aim is to deliver a ‘sense of place’ and detail in all his wines. I understand that these are all concepts that you are passionate about."
I went to the web site to see if I could find any clue. First off I was pleased to see that they pretty much tell most of the picture. I appreciate the candid nakedness. Here is the cut and paste from the wineries website. Yes. There is sincerity here.
Fruit is harvested when the balance between fruit flavour, sugar and acidity is at optimum levels. Good quality fruit is essential to produce high quality wine.
The winemakers select premium parcels of fruit on based on a flavour profile. Flavour is important to the winemaker wanting to make a particular style of wine. This is relevant whether making wine in cool or warm climate regions.
Crushing
Once the fruit is picked and delivered to the winery it is then crushed into fermenters. During crushing the fruit is de-stemmed (the fruit is removed from the stem and any material other than grape is also removed). The fruit and juice crushed into the fermenters is from then on referred to as 'must'.
Traditional hand picking is still used for special parcels of fruit grown on old vines or for botrytis affected grapes but most fruit in Australia is now machine harvested. This reduces labour costs and allows the fruit to be harvested in the cool of the night.
Making White Wine
The must is drained and pressed then the two fractions of juice produced, 'free run' and 'pressings' are kept separate until post fermentation blending. 'Free run' is the juice that drains freely from the press, whereas the 'pressings' is the juice obtained by mechanically squeezing the must. Both fractions of juice are clarified and then yeast is added.
The temperature of the ferments is held between 13-17°C for 10-18days until the yeast has converted the sugar to alcohol.
Once fermentation is completed, the wine is racked (the clear portion on top is removed) and Bentonite is added for protein stabilisation.
Some white wines such as Chardonnay may be fermented and matured for a period in French or American Oak Barriques(small oak barrels). Most white wines though, for example unwooded styles such as Sauvignon Blanc and Riesling are stored in tank until they are ready for bottling. These styles are usually bottled soon after vintage, once fermentation, stabilisation, clarification and blending has occurred.
Making Red Wine
After crushing and de-stemming, yeast is added. To obtain colour and flavour,the juice from the must is taken from under the cap of the skins and used to irrigate the skins several times a day. The red must is fermented at temperatures between 22-30°C over a 5-7 day period.Premium parcels may be transferred into French or American oak barrels to complete fermentation. Once the sugar has converted to alcohol, and the colour and flavour have been extracted from the skins, the must is then pressed.
After pressing, the wine is clarified and inoculated with Leuconostoc oenos (malo-lactic bacteria) for secondary or malo-lactic fermentation. Malo-lactic fermentation is the conversion of malic acidinto lactic acid.
Once the malo-lactic fermentation is completed the wine is clarified and stabilised prior to blending. For premium parcels oak maturation in American or French oak barriques (225L) for a period of 9-12 months occurs.
Oak Maturation
Oak barrels are used for premium wine maturation. The type of oak used whether French, American or other depends on the winemaker's individual preference or the style of wine being made. Different levels of "toasting" are used in making a barrel, which imparts flavour from the oak into the wine. The barrels are filled and sealed with a silicon bung.
Some barrels are stored with the silicon bung upright and topped every 2-4 weeks. Some are rolled where the silicon bung is in the 2o'clock position. The barrels are stored where the temperature is constant. This keeps the wine in better condition and reduces the rate of expansion and contraction due to temperature fluctuations.
Clarification and Stabilisation
Wines are clarified to 'cellar bright' prior to bottling or long term storage. The means of clarification used in the winery are Centrifugation, Earth and Pad Filtration.
White wine is both protein and tartrate stabilised, red wine is just tartrate stabilised. Adding Bentonite to white wine ensures that the wine will not have an undesirable haze of deposit once bottled. The haze or deposit is associated with the de-naturisation of proteins,which occurs more rapidly at higher temperatures.
Tartrate stabilisation removes potassium bi-tartrate crystals from the wine, this is achieved by chilling the wine to below 0°C. Although not harmful, the presence of crystals in a white and red wine can be unacceptable to the consumer.
Blending
Each wine is blended according to the desired style and the label requirement of a particular blend. Blending occurs when all the wine has completed primary and secondary fermentation and has been protein and tartrate stabilised. Blending is regarded as the intricate part of winemaking. Commercial winemakers focus on maintaining the consistency of style from vintage to vintage.
Bottling
The wine is packaged after sterile filtration. Sulphur Dioxide is added and in some wines Ascorbic Acid is also added as a preservative. The food additive codes on the labels are Sulphur Dioxide (220) and Ascorbic Acid (300).
As my friend, Alan F. pointed out, "People like that should pay you NOT to write about them. "

I'm hunting the Leon Trotskys, the Philip Roths, the Chaucers and the Edith Whartons of the wine world. I want them natural and most of all, I want them to speak the truth even if we argue. With this messiah thing going on, I'm trying to swell the ranks of those who crave the differences in each vintage, celebrate nuance and desire wines that make them think, laugh, and feel. Welcome.

And, if you'd like a signed copy of either THE BATTLE FOR WINE AND LOVE OR HOW I SAVED THE WORLD FROM PARKERIZATION or NAKED WINE, feel free to contact me directly.